


Fall Away From Me (I Just Can't Take It)

by The_lazy_eye



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: All the losers make an appearance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Desk Sex, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Hook-Up, M/M, Makeup Sex, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, One-Sided Attraction, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-07-18 08:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16114541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_lazy_eye/pseuds/The_lazy_eye
Summary: It’s okay, though, Eddie tells himself. It’s all fine. This is part of their arrangement. This is a casual thing they have going. It’s his own stupid fault for catching feelings for someone he agreed to casually fuck. Especially when that person is his best friend from childhood.





	1. Chapter 1

Pleasure washes through Eddie’s entire body as his back arches off the bed. The room is hot, the sheets sticking messily to his skin. One hand is tangled into the loose cover of the bed above his head and other is bracing itself against one of the arms framing his face. His fingers digging in hard enough to leave small bruises. His legs are hiked up over the hips of the man above him as he mercilessly pounds into Eddie.

Eddie could feel his body revving up. He has no idea how long they’ve been at it but he can see the sweat on Richie’s forehead and the way his arms are shaking with the effort to keep himself up. The rhythm they’ve established is faltering and he knows they’re both close. The coil in his stomach grows tighter with each movement of their hips.

Eddie can hear the bed squeaking and smacking into the wall occasionally. They’re always so loud. If Eddie isn’t borderline screaming the bed can be heard echoing down the hallways. He’s vaguely shocked that no one’s ever slammed on his door to tell them to shut up. He’s not friends with anyone on his floor so there’s nothing stopping them.

Richie's mouth drops open and he screws his eyes shut and Eddie thinks for a moment that Richie might come first. His hips stutter once before he pushes up into a kneeling position and grabs Eddie’s hips with one hand and sets a brutal pace. Eddie feels himself get pushed further up the bed by the force of it. Richie wraps his other hand around Eddie’s cock, slick with his own precum, and begins to quickly strip it. The angle change causes Richie to nail his prostate every few thrusts and it’s not long until he’s throwing his head back, covering his own chest in come with a cry of pleasure.

Richie follows quickly, as if he was holding out and waiting for Eddie to reach his peak so he could reach his. His noises are much lower than Eddie’s. He comes with a low groan and his thrusts shift from brutal and deep to shallow, erratic spurts. His head hangs forward and his mouth drops open. They stay like that for a moment, both catching their breaths and waiting for the glow of their orgasms to fade, before Richie slowly pulls out and ties off the condom, tossing it lazily into the trashcan by the side of the bed.

Eddie doesn’t move, he can’t bring himself to lift his arms and reach for the tissues or his boxers or anything else. He feels pleasantly used, a dull ache blossoming in his lower back. He’s come to enjoy the feeling of the post-glow fuck. At first, he hated it. He hated the way he felt so empty after Richie pulled out. He hated the way his body ached and throbbed. He hated the way his skin felt sticky with sweat and come and anything else that happened to dirty him during sex. He’s come to love all of those feelings and more. In the several months since this started he’s leaned into each new feeling his body experienced. What he hated most, and still hates to this day, is how Richie is so quick to clean himself up and shuck his clothing back on. He hates how Richie is so quick to go back to normal, how he can just turn the TV on or get his textbooks out. Most of all he hates that Richie can be so quick to toss over a lazy smile and a  _ see ya later, Eds _ before walking out the door.

It’s okay, though, Eddie tells himself. It’s all fine. This is part of their arrangement. This is a casual thing they have going. It’s his own stupid fault for catching feelings for someone he agreed to casually fuck. Especially when that person is his best friend from childhood.

This time, though, Richie doesn’t walk out the door. He does pull on his own boxers and jeans but he leaves his shirt off. This a clear indication to Eddie that Richie is planning on hanging around for at least a couple minutes but probably for a while. He does throw a lazy smile at Eddie before leaning down and picking up a pair of shorts and throwing them on top of Eddie’s legs.

“Planning on staying in the nude, my dear Eds? Don’t get me wrong, I love a good view but you’re normally much quicker to preserve your decency than this.”

“Fuck you. Let me enjoy this.”

Richie laughs at that and settles into the desk chair on the opposite side of the room. Eddie watches the way he brings his bare feet up to settle on the edge of the wood and how he pushes the chair so it wobbles on the back to legs. The light coming in from the window hits him perfectly. His chest and face glow in the setting sun and the rest of him is cast under a shadowy blanket. It takes Eddie another moment to move, too caught up in the sight before him. He moves, though. He grabs tissues to clean the drying come off his chest and then wiggles into his shorts without getting off the bed. Richie glances at him and chuckles before he fishes his phone from his pocket and messes around on it. Facebook, maybe, Eddie thinks. Not that it matters. It isn’t his business.

Eddie grabs the remote and clicks the TV on. Family Feud comes to life on the screen and Eddie finds himself absently smiling. It’s their go to background noise show but more often than not they find themselves playing along with the families on the screen. When he looks back over at Richie he’s still looking at his phone but he’s smiling, too. Eddie lets himself believe it’s because of their show and not some text or funny picture that he can’t see.

The room settles into the same quiet atmosphere they’ve always known. With Richie, Eddie’s always been able to relax. He feels at peace with him. There’s nothing stopping them from talking to each other but there’s also no pressure. They can each do their own thing. Eddie watches television, not really paying attention, while Richie fiddles with his phone. This is the side to Richie people don’t see. In any other situation Richie is constantly going. He has a performative personality that cannot be stopped. He thrives off of the attention. But here with Eddie, Richie lets that persona down. He’s able to relax into himself and just be.

“Bev invited us out to the bars this weekend. I told her I’m in. You think you’re gonna come?”

Eddie hums in response. He has enough homework to tap him out for the entire weekend. The semester, and year, is coming to a close and he’s been finding himself with more papers than he wants to count. He could easily say no to both of them and no one would think twice but part of him doesn’t want to. Maybe it’s the irresistible urge to procrastinate or maybe it’s the way Richie is looking at him but he finds himself nodding. One night at the bar couldn’t hurt. He’ll spend Saturday morning nursing a hangover and the rest of the weekend working. No harm, no foul.

He hears Richie whoop in excitement as he turns his attention back to Steve Harvey. His phone vibrates on the nightstand and he has no doubt in his mind that its Richie in the group chat letting everyone know about this weekend.

Eventually the sun sets entirely and the only light in the room comes from the glow of the television. Eddie doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until he shoots up to find infomercials playing in an empty, dark dorm room with a throw blanket from his wardrobe settled over him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They stand there for a minute, pressed together in the tight space. Richie’s face is only inches from Eddie’s and Eddie can’t tell if his world is spinning because of the blowjob, the alcohol, or how close Richie is to him.

Somehow the club is both overwhelmingly bright and dark at the same time. Several colored spotlights are spinning on the ceiling with even more moving from where the DJ is stationed. There is some kind of strobe light coming from behind the turntables. Eddie can’t see in front of him so he resorts to looking at the ground and memorizing the kinds of shoes his friends are wearing so he doesn’t get separated.

He’s far too sober for the amount of people in this club and Richie seems to sense this because not long after they arrive he’s pushing a drink into Eddie’s hand and motioning for him to drink. He watches Richie wrap his lips around his own straw and feels a small tug at the bottom of his stomach. His eyes are practically burning holes into Eddie’s as he takes several long swallows before lowering the cup and smiling innocently. Eddie copies the motion, finding his drink to be a rather strong Long Island Iced-T.

No one seems to notice them because Bev is the first one to rush out to the dance floor. Eddie can hardly see her go through the lights but he does see Richie move and disappear from his line of sight. When he looks he can see their shoes moving together a couple yards away and he can barely make out Bev’s hand on Richie’s forearm before she spins around and presses her back firmly against him. Eddie stands awkwardly by the bar as he watches them move together. His eyes are glued to where their hips meet. Bev is swirling hers around, bending forward slightly and holding her drink high above her and Richie rocks to the beat behind her. To anyone else they would look like a couple but Eddie knows better – and not just because Richie’s been in his bed twice already this week. Bev and Richie are as close as brother and sister and that’s all they’ll ever be. There was a brief period in high school when the two of them tried to date. They called it off after they burst into laughter during their first kiss.

Eddie takes another long pull from his drink before turning to watch the rest of the people on the dance floor. Everyone is so close together. It’s a sea of bodies moving against bodies. He knows he’s going to end up out there by the end of the night but he’s in no rush. The drink hasn’t quite worked its magic yet. The bass feels like it’s bumping through his entire body. He can feel his chest vibrating each time the beat falls.

More and more people are beginning to crowd the bar for drinks, forcing him away from his spot against the counter. He can feel someone’s eyes on him as he moves to find a spot to stand against the wall. He thinks its Richie but when he looks out into the sea of people he finds Richie and Bev with their backs to him, still entangled with each other. He sees Richie whisper in her ear and Bev throw her head back with laughter. Something unpleasant burns in his stomach but he shoves it down. He’s not jealous because he has nothing to be jealous of. Richie isn’t dating Bev and he certainly isn’t dating Eddie.

A light touch on his arm rips him out of his thoughts. When he turns he finds Chad, a boy from his research methods class, standing next to him.

“Shouldn’t you be writing your proposal?” he practically screams over the music. He’s smiling down at Eddie and clutching two drinks in his hand. Eddie is smart enough to understand where this is going.

“Shouldn’t you?” he shouts back, smiling coyly and nodding toward the drink. Chad just shrugs and hands the drink to Eddie. He looks ridiculous standing there with two drinks in his hands so he brings his Long Island up and chugs what’s left before tossing it into the trash can a couple feet away. Chad takes a drink from his own cup and motions towards the dance floor.

_ Why not _ , Eddie thinks,  _ might as well dance with someone. _

He lets Chad lead him out onto the floor and soon they’re moving against each other. It’s not like how he saw Richie move with Bev. They don’t touch at first, both facing each other and holding their drinks up and a little out of the way. Its starts off slow. Eddie rocks gently to the music and Chad follows his motions. He gets closer and closer to Eddie as they continue, testing the waters, but Eddie doesn’t find himself minding. He can feel the alcohol starting to swim in his system and all his insecurities begin floating out of him. He knows he won’t go home with this boy tonight but he can at least enjoy his night out.

Sometime between sips of their drinks and swirls of their hips they end up pressed together on the dance floor with Chad’s hands on Eddie’s hips. Eddie finishes his drink and discards his cup, winding his arms around Chad’s neck and pressing their bodies close together. He knows he might be teasing but he can’t help it. The lights from the club begin to blur together and the songs fade in and out of his awareness. Dancing is always something Eddie has loved but could never really bring himself to go out and do. He needs someone like Bev to drag him out by the collar. Without that little push he’d be in his dorm bed with some Netflix documentary playing, mindlessly scrolling through social media.

Chad’s hands move slowly from Eddie’s waist up the length of his body. Eddie can feel the heat of his fingertips trailing up his sides. What would normally tickle only sends a burning sensation across his skin. The pleasant buzz in his head has both blurred and heightened his senses. It isn’t until Chad starts to lean in that Eddie realizes what’s happening. He quickly spins, missing the kiss and pressing his back firmly against Chad’s chest. It was time for a change in their dancing anyway.

Chad’s hands move down and firmly plant against Eddie’s waist as Eddie begins to sway and move his hips to the beat. He can feel Chad’s half hard hope for the night pressing against him but he pretends not to notice. From here, he can see Richie and Bev still close together across the bar. Their positions have flipped and now Richie is dancing pressed up against Bev. They’re still laughing, drinks long gone. Eddie watches as he sways his hips in a deliciously tantalizing way. There’s something mesmerizing in the way Richie is moving his body. Eddie wants Richie to move against him like that.

“Wanna get out of here?” Chad’s voice cuts through the music into Eddie’s ear.

As if on cue, Richie looks up and immediately finds Eddie across the floor. The lights flash wildly between them but somehow their eye contact stays steady. Richie’s eyes read something between amusement and interest and he cocks his head to the side. Eddie makes a quick, discreet motion against his neck with his hand. Richie nods and immediately stops, turning to whisper something in Bev’s ear. It’s not that he doesn’t like Chad. It’s just that he’d much rather be dancing with someone else right now.

“Sorry, Chad. I don’t think it’s that kind of night for me,” Eddie shouts as he turns back around to face him. He’s got a sweet smile on his face – the kind that lets boys down easy. He wants to let Chad down easy. He’s a sweet guy.

Chad nods and gives him a tight-lipped smile back. “Gonna work on that proposal instead?”

Eddie laughs and goes to say something but Bev and Richie are suddenly on either side of him. Bev drapes herself over Eddie’s right side and he struggles to catch her. He stumbles into Richie and then glances back over at Chad. He’s still wearing that tight smile as he looks the three of them over. Eddie sends him a final look before focusing his attention on Bev. She’s smiling, wide and sloppy, and can’t seem to stay balanced on her own.

Well, the night had to end sometime. He looks at Richie before starting to make his way across the floor to the exit but before he makes it more than two steps Bev’s weight lifts off his shoulders and Richie grabs his arm and he’s being pulled backwards.

“Don’t worry, Spaghetti. We’ve got your back!” Richie yells out over the music, throwing his hands up and letting out a scream. No one even bothers to look their way but Eddie can feel the secondhand embarrassment creep into his cheeks. Apparently, it was all a ruse to get rid of Chad. Eddie isn’t really complaining. Instead of trying to speak he just motions to the bar and makes towards there instead. If the night isn’t over he’s due for another drink.

He somehow ends up sandwiched between the two of them. Bev is against his back and Richie is against his front. The image itself is hilarious. The smallest of the three pressed between a lanky giant and one of the most beautiful women at their school.

He can feel small hands holding tightly onto his waist, guiding his hips to the music. His head is pleasantly swimming and the world is rocking along with them. Richie puts on a show in front of him. The hand that doesn’t have a new drink is alternating between coming up and tangling in Eddie’s hair and running down his own body. He drops and twists and pops and  _ grinds _ . Eddie is thankful that it’s Richie pressed against his front and not Bev because between the alcohol and Richie’s movements he spotting a particularly noticeable hardon. Richie knows it, too, if the way he’s deliciously pressing his ass against Eddie is any indication.

Time blurs together for them. They dance with each other as each song fades in and out of another. At some point Eddie’s hand cements to Richie’s hips, keeping him pressed to his front. Richie takes it in stride, grinding against him in a torturous way. Eddie can feel all restraint slipping out of him as his hands grip tighter and he rolls his own hips forward. The friction is dizzying. This is exactly how he pictured dancing with Richie would be – what he’s been itching for all night. He’s not even aware that Bev is still with them until she steps away from Eddie, excusing herself to dance with a boy who had apparently attached himself to their threesome. When did that happen?

As soon as she’s gone Richie rounds on him, grabbing his arm roughly and dragging him through the crowd. Eddie just stumbles after him, attempting to keep up. Richie leads him to the bathroom, pushing through the doors and heading towards the back. Eddie barely has any time to process what’s happening, brain hazy, when Richie pulls him into the second to last stall and slams him against the wall. Richie is on him quick, attacking his mouth in a sloppy, rushed kind of way. Teeth clack against teeth and Eddie might taste the bitter sting of copper on his tongue but he’s far too gone to tell. Neither the blood nor the state of the bathroom register in his head. If he were sober he would have punched Richie in the face by now, maybe yelled about the hygienics of fucking in a bathroom that clearly hasn’t been cleaned in the past four years. The amount of disease on the walls, the STDs they could catch just by exposing their dicks to the air, is astronomical. None of it seems to matter, though. It might in the morning but Eddie is wrapped up in Richie’s kiss, in his touch. He’s desperate for it.

His hands automatically come up to tangle in Richie’s hair and he pulls, drawing a moan out of the taller boy. The sound bounces off the wall and mixes with the thumping bass from the other room. They’re in public, they should care about getting caught, but they don’t. Neither of them makes a move to silence Richie.

“Fuck, Eds,” Richie groans, moving his lips to the side of Eddie’s neck and biting harshly, “The way you moved out there. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. Just wanted to get my hands all over that sweet little ass of yours.”

Eddie whimpers at this, unable to find words to match Richie’s. Normally he tries. He’ll shoot back some kind of snarky comment just to get Richie’s engines revving and then it’s all over. He can’t ever keep up. Richie’s regular motor mouth is just as bad in bed. His hips buck forward and meet Richie’s but the pressure is short lived. Richie continues mouthing his way down Eddie’s neck, hands pushing up underneath his shirt before suddenly dropping to his knees and burying his face in the tufts of hair right above the button of Eddie’s jeans. He glances up at Eddie before popping the button open and pulling both his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to bounce free.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he rambles, hot breath ghosting over Eddie. “Better than that boy ever could. But you never wanted him, did you?” Richie punctuates his question with a kiss to the head of Eddie’s dick, tongue darting out to quickly skim the slit. “You wanted  _ me. _ ‘Cause I make you feel so damn good. Don’t I, Eds?”

Eddie’s head falls back against the wall with a thud as Richie’s lips close around him. They’ve been doing this for so long that Richie knows exactly what it takes to get Eddie off hard and quick. Eddie can feel Richie slide down his length, taking all of him in and humming around the base. As he slides back he presses his tongue firmly against the underside and teases the sensitive bundle of nerves under the head. It doesn’t take long for Eddie to become a moaning mess above him. He can’t help it; the sounds just slip out of him without any regard for who might be in the bathroom with them. Eddie tangles his hands back in Richie’s hair and rolls his hips gently forward. Richie just relaxes his jaw, bobbing up and down and taking Eddie all the way to the base. Eddie can feel what little control he had slipping, the coil in his stomach growing tighter and tighter by the second. Richie sets a rhythm – bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks, and humming around Eddie.

The final push, though, isn’t what Richie is doing with his mouth. It happens when Eddie opens his eyes and glances down. Underneath him, Richie has his own dick out and is pumping it quickly. The sight is Eddie’s downfall. It’s impossible to hold back. His vision goes white and he comes without warning, shooting into the back of Richie’s throat with an unrestrained shout. Richie, as always, takes it like a champ. He swallows around Eddie, tongue dragging alone every inch it can reach to help him ride his orgasm out.

When Eddie looks back down at Richie, ready to help him finish, he’s already tucked himself back into his jeans, a small pool of cum splattered on the ground between them. He doesn’t notice the way Eddie’s face twists into disgust as he stands up to help Eddie get himself situated back into his clothes.

They stand there for a minute, pressed together in the tight space. Richie’s face is only inches from Eddie’s and Eddie can’t tell if his world is spinning because of the blowjob, the alcohol, or how close Richie is to him. For a second, it looks like Richie is going to lean in and kiss him. His eyes flicker to Eddie’s lips twice before darting back up to his eyes. Their so close their noses are practically touching. Richie is pressing Eddie against the wall of their stall. They don’t ever kiss, not after sex. They kiss before, when the heat is rising and they’re bursting at the seams with anticipation. Hot and wet and messy. It’s never sweet and slow. Eddie dreams of it, though. He watches Richie’s lips while he talks and thinks about how sweet they could be, pressed gently against his. He thinks of how fuzzy and warm and delighted he would be to have Richie explore his mouth as if he were trying to map it out, trying to remember it for later.

They’ve only ever kissed like that once and Eddie savors the memory. It was their first time together, Eddie’s first time at all. Richie had taken his time, eased the anxiety out of Eddie’s bones and pressed into him gently, sweetly, slowly. Halfway through the air in the room shifted from gentle and loving to erratic and desperate. After they both finished Eddie was so overwhelmed with pleasure,  _ with love _ , that he told Richie he ruined him, that he would never be the same again. He panicked. Richie ignited a fire in his body and a stitch in his heart. He couldn’t say what he was really feeling out loud, so instead he deflected the reality of what they had done with a proposition to do it again. And again. And again. He hid his truth behind the guise of not wanting to lose the pleasure he had been introduced to. Nothing was gentle after that. The desperation stayed, the unadulterated need to fuck and be fucked. That’s how this was born. That’s how Richie and Eddie went from best friends to friends with benefits.

They don’t kiss. Instead, Richie lets out a small chuckle. “We should get back out there, see if Bev’s doing alright.” He pushes off the wall and unlatches the door, stumbling out. Eddie follows him back out on unsteady legs, head still in a daze.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is a Thursday update. 
> 
> Again, huge thank you to the lovely Leighwrites (aizeninlefox.tumblr.com) for beta reading this fic for me. Without her, this fic would not only be full of spelling/grammar errors but it would be an absolute mess in general. Send her some love. 
> 
> I'm hoping to have regular Thursday updates but I'm not going to make promises I can't keep. For now, enjoy this chapter and let me know what you thought in the comments or at reddie-for-anything.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t mean for it to happen, but he didn’t stop it either. He was the one who confided in Richie. He was the one who agreed to Richie’s offer instead of shucking it off as the joke it was meant to be. He was the one who offered to make it a regular thing in a selfish attempt to bring his own fantasies to life. This isn’t Richie’s fault. This is their arrangement. This is on Eddie.

The next several weeks pass by. Midterms come and go and Eddie finds himself settled into the same rhythm he’s repeated for the past two years. He wakes up, eats, goes to class, does his work, and goes back to bed. The more his professors pile on the more he feels the need to isolate himself. He knows he can do the work, he’s done it all before, but the anxiety of failure lingers in the back of his head. It pigeons him into his room, fingers glued to his keyboard as he cranks out papers and online assignments. The only thing different this semester is how he finds Richie inside of him at least twice a week. It’s a nice distraction, a way to release the tension that builds up in his body.

But even that is starting to fizzle out. The stress of finals in the spring is ever constant. One assignment is worth 40% in one class, one is 50% in another. He can’t afford to be too distracted so he’s opted for making excuses and ignoring text messages. Eddie keeps telling himself that he’s pushing Richie away because of school. Because school is more important than sex – and it is – but it's more than that and he knows it. He knows, deep down where he doesn’t want to think, that he’s pushing Richie away to save himself. There’s no world where Richie can love him the way he loves Richie. Richie knows what he’s in this for, it’s what he assumes they’re both in this for.

Sometimes it feels like the more sex they have the more bricks get added to the emotional wall inside of Eddie Kaspbrak. He can feel his defenses building higher and higher. He wants what he can’t have so in order to protect himself he’s putting distance between himself and the one who will inevitably break his heart. He’s scared to face the truth in any kind of capacity. He knows he needs to end this before it goes too far, before his wall crumbles down and he’s forced to deal with the wreckage it leaves behind.

Eddie hears his phone buzz twice on the table and knows who it is. Eddie has known Richie for so long that even these new parts of him are predictable. When he grabs his phone there are two notifications: one from his text app and one from snapchat. Eddie clicks the text first, reading it quickly before opening snapchat and clicking the red box. An image of Richie flashes on the screen. He’s standing shirtless in front of his body mirror, grey sweats hanging lowly on his hips. There’s an obvious outline next to his right leg and Eddie can’t help the warmth that rushes to his crotch. He debates on screenshotting the image before he remembers that he has no right to do that. Richie isn’t his. He has no right to save any of his pictures. He opts for savoring it, taking in every detail before the timer runs out and it disappears into the pixelated abyss. He slips his shirt off before snapping a quick picture, framing his chest and the way he bites his lower lip between his teeth, and sends it. Then he responds to the text, just for good measure.

_ Richie [3:38pm]: Up for some fun? _

_ Eddie [3:40pm]: What’d you have in mind? _

Eddie spends the next few minutes trying to focus on the assignment he was working on. Its fruitless. He ends up alternating between his laptop and checking his phone for any new replies. His snapchat was opened almost immediately but it’s been radio silent. Not even an emoji.

He’s about to start pacing when Richie comes through his door. The look in his eyes is dark, primal almost. He’s changed into something suitable for the public but that doesn’t matter. Those clothes won’t be staying on for much longer.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Eddie asks as he turns, facing Richie in the small room. He doesn’t answer, he just grunts as he makes his way across the room, grabbing Eddie roughly by the hair and pulling him up into a messy kiss. There’s a struggle for dominance from the get go. Eddie’s tongue wrestles Richie’s and he pushes back, backing Richie against the bed and crawling on top of him when the taller boy’s knees buckle. Eddie breaks the kiss, leaning back and grinding his ass onto Richie’s lap. Richie lets out a low moan under him and grabs his hips harshly, rolling his hips up to meet Eddie. They get lost like that for a moment, both relishing in the friction before Richie uses his grip on Eddie’s hips to flip them. Eddie watches as Richie leans back on his heels to pull his shirt over his head. He gets caught in the way the midday light hits Richie’s chest and face. For one moment time freezes, the heat and desperation slip away and it’s just the two of them. Eddie reaches up to run a hand over Richie’s stomach, tangling his fingers in the happy trail leading into his sweats, before sitting up and dragging Richie into another kiss and breaking the moment. Best to not get too caught up in it.

They’re all teeth and tongues and pushing and pulling after that. Somehow Eddie loses his pants and ends up on his knees with Richie as deep in his throat as he can take him. He’s propped against the desk as Eddie goes to town, swallowing Richie in smooth motions. Eddie can feel the way Richie’s thighs shake and quiver under his touch. Richie never complained about his head game before, but Eddie knows he’s gotten better since they started. He’s figured out a few tips and tricks. If he swirls his tongue around the head of Richie’s cock his knees will buckle. If he hums or hollows his cheeks Richie’s head will fall back. If he sets a rhythm, one he knows Richie could get off to, his body shakes all over.

His goal isn’t to get Richie off like this, though, he so pulls off Richie’s cock with an audible  _ pop _ and leans back slowly, letting the saliva from his tongue form a thin string between himself and Richie, and looks up at him with batted eyelashes. Richie’s eyes somehow go darker at this and he digs his hands under Eddie’s arms to hoist him up. He carefully closes Eddie’s laptop and sets it on the bed before spinning them around and shoving Eddie down on the desk, pushing between his shoulder blades so that his chest his flush with the wood. He nudges Eddie’s legs apart and drops to his own knees.

Eddie would be embarrassed he wasn’t so incredibly turned on. He’s so exposed on the top of his desk. Chest down, ass up, legs spread. He looks dirty. He  _ feels _ dirty. No one has ever made him feel this way before. Nothing can rival the way Richie makes him feel. No one he’s had heated make out sessions in the back of his car with. No one who has ever given him a quick handy in his bed in high school. No one except for Richie Tozier and the way he uses his hands, his body, his tongue. The latter of which is currently teasing his hole, running lightly around the puckered skin.

Eddie can feel the anticipation thrumming through his body. When Richie does something, he does it with commitment and passion. He never half asses anything and that includes rim jobs. Eddie was hesitant at first, citing statistics about sanitation and personal hygiene up and down. He gave in to Richie though. He would probably always give in to him. And the first time he felt Richie press his tongue into him he knew he was hooked. Richie knew what he was doing. He knows how to press and twist and lick to get Eddie’s entire body to go lax. Maybe that’s why he folded him over the desk. He knew Eddie would need something to hold himself up.

Richie suddenly flattens his tongue against Eddie, then, dragging it up his perineum and over his hole. He repeats this motion twice before stopping to tease at his entrance and stiffening his tongue, slowly pressing it in. Eddie keens at this, dropping his head onto the desk as little sparks of pleasure shoot through him. Richie holds himself there for a moment, tongue pressed through the tight ring of muscle, before pulling out and pressing in again. He fucks Eddie slowly with his tongue, saliva coating the skin around him and dripping down his chin. It’s a messy process, it always is, but fuck if Eddie doesn’t love it. He can’t help the heady whines that are escaping his lips. It doesn’t take long for Richie to set a tempo, kissing and sucking at Eddie’s rim before dipping back in. Now it's Eddie’s thighs that are shaking, trembling where Richie’s hands are holding him.

Right as Eddie’s hips start to rock backwards in a desperate attempt for more, Richie brings one finger up and runs it along the skin below his tongue. He presses inside, slow and gentle, using the excess saliva as a temporary lubricant. Eddie lets out a low, long moan in response, turning his head to get an angled look at Richie. He can’t see much but he does see black framed glasses resting on top of Richie’s curly black hair. He watches as those curls bounce and jostle with Richie’s movements, tempo slightly off to Richie’s own pace. The combination of Richie burrowing in down to the knuckle and his tongue teasing as his rim is enough to have Eddie rapidly approaching the edge.

Richie seems to sense this, too. He can read Eddie like a well-loved novel. He pulls his mouth away, pulling his finger out and pressing it back in slowly. Eddie can feel him shift positions and he can feel the vibrations of the desk drawer opening and closing. He can hear the cap of a bottle pop open and close a moment later. Richie pulls his finger all the way out and presses back in, this time smeared with the chilled, unmistakable feeling of actual lube.

“Fuck Eds, you’re so fucking tight,” Richie’s voice fills the room, echoing off the brick walls and bouncing around inside Eddie’s head. It's absolutely wrecked, coming out nothing more than a rasp in the quite air. It cuts through the haze of pleasure, forcing Eddie to focus on it. Richie just continues to pump his finger in and out, dragging it across the sensitive skin inside of Eddie. “Gonna feel so good stretched on my cock. You want that, too, don’t you? Wanna feel me inside you?”

Eddie nods quick, untrusting of his own voice. His fingers grasp at the edge of the desk as Richie slips a second finger in. The stretch doesn’t hurt the way it did when they first started. Now Eddie anticipates it. Now he relishes in the way it feels to be opened up. “Tell me, Eddie. I need to hear you say it.”

Richie’s name is all that falls from Eddie’s lips at first. It’s long and drawn out as Richie scissors his fingers to continue their prep. He angles them, searching, before going back to his original movements. Richie is silent, waiting for a response. “I want it,” Eddie finally gasps out, “I want it, please.”

“That’s my boy.”

Richie immediately adds a third finger, working Eddie open slowly and deliberately. It isn’t until he feels Eddie relax around his fingers that he picks up the pace. He curls his fingers intentionally, dragging them along Eddie’s prostate in a quick and brutal way until he has Eddie shaking, open mouthed, and drooling on the desk above him. After what feels like forever to Eddie, Richie stands and the sound of a zipper and tearing foil mixes with Eddie’s panting.

“I’m gonna give you exactly what you want, baby,” Richie rambles, lining himself up with Eddie and grabbing his hip with his free hand. “I’m gonna fill you up. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you can’t see straight.  _ God _ , Eddie,” he presses in, “God you feel so fucking  _ good _ .”

Eddie isn’t sure if he’ll ever get used to the way his body stretches and gives in to Richie. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to or if Richie just has that effect on him. The side of his face is still pressed against the desk, mouth hung open in an empty moan. When Richie bottoms out, he stills for a moment to let Eddie adjust. He waits, both hands gripping Eddie and his hips twitching with the effort it takes to keep still. When Eddie chokes out a desperate  _ please _ Richie pulls back, rolling his hips in one smooth motion and sending stars through Eddie’s vision.

It starts slow, cautious, before Richie gradually picks up speed. He rambles on and on about how tight and warm Eddie feels around him, how he could fuck into Eddie for days and never get tired of it, how Eddie looks bent over the desk in his dorm room. Eddie loves every word of it. He loves the low, gravelly sound of Richie’s voice when he’s turned on. There’s something incredibly hot about the way Richie describes them. He keeps going, as if he’ll never run out of words to say.

Eddie, on the other hand, has no words to say. The only thing he is capable of is letting obscene noises fall from his lips at the hands of Richie. He moans high and needy, getting higher when he feels Richie brush against his prostate. The pleasure is white hot and only building. Richie bends over his back, mouth connecting with his shoulder and hips snapping forward at an alarming pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin mixes in with Richie’s grunts and Eddie’s moans.

“Richie, I –”

Richie thrusts particularly hard, knocking the wind and words out of Eddie’s throat. Eddie’s feelings come bubbling up into his throat, leaving their taste on his tongue and he’s thankful that he’s never been able to form his words during sex because he’s sure he’d spill the truth right now if he could. He can almost register the way Richie is kissing his shoulder through the desperation coursing through his body. He can almost hear the way Richie calls him baby as he fucks into Eddie, chasing both of their orgasms.

Those almosts never quite become clear to Eddie, though, because Richie’s kisses turn into bites and his  _ baby’s _ turn into  _ fucks _ . Soon enough he’s reaching under Eddie and pumping his dick, whispering commands to cum in Eddie’s ear. It does the trick and Eddie’s body jerks forward as he shoots onto the side of his desk and floor. Richie follows suit, slamming roughly into Eddie twice more before his hips stutter and Eddie feels the telltale pulse of Richie emptying into the condom.

The two stay like that for a moment – Richie draped over Eddie’s back with his mouth connected to Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s face is pressed into the desk and his fingertips are white with how hard he’s gripping the surface. Eddie can feel every part of him that’s connected with Richie. He can feel Richie’s heartbeat tapping against his back and his dick softening inside of him. He can feel the way Richie’s lips move slightly before he’s lifting himself off and pulling out. The same tension settles over the room that has lately when they’re finished. Its thick and muggy and palpable.

“You better clean this shit off of my desk,” Eddie says weakly as he pushes himself up and grabs a pair of running shorts from the hamper. Richie pulls his own jeans up before locking eyes with Eddie briefly. There’s no smile on his face like Eddie thought there would be, only that same lust blown darkness from earlier. He watches as Richie strides over to the desk before dropping to his knees and full on licking Eddie’s cum off the wood.

Eddie can feel the heat rise to his face. He watches as Richie runs his tongue along the desk, catching every drop of cum that was painted on the side. Against his better judgement he feels his body react with interest. He’s torn between absolute disgust and being turned on. Before he has a chance to decide how he feels Richie is up again and in front of him. He runs his tongue along his lips obscenely before smiling that Tozier smile.

“All clean, babe.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Richie? You’re fucking disgusting,” Eddie shoots back, shoving Richie away as he goes to sit on his bed. Richie just laughs and follows him.

“Thanks,” Richie says, not taking the bait. “Calc has just been so fucking stressful and I needed to let off some steam. Plus, I couldn’t stop thinking about that perky little ass of yours.”

Eddie flushes again, shoving Richie’s shoulder and forcing a laugh. “Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it too.” It comes out more strained than he wants it too but Richie doesn’t seem to notice. He’s leaning back on the bed with his phone open and a lazy smile on his face. Eddie watches him from the corner of his eye for a moment before grabbing his laptop and returning to his desk. His paper is still open in the exact spot he left it but he knows he won’t make any more actual progress on it today. It’s just open so he has something to look at other than Richie.

He tries not to think too hard about Richie’s words and how much harder this is becoming. He doesn’t want any of the emotions that are settling in his chest. He doesn’t want to love Richie. He doesn’t want to want him the way he does. But he doesn’t want to resent him for this, either. This isn’t Richie’s fault. This is their arrangement. This is on Eddie.

He didn’t mean for it to happen, but he didn’t stop it either.  He was the one who confided in Richie. He told him how he’d never truly slept with someone before and how he was scared to do it with someone he might not be able to trust. He was the one who agreed to Richie’s offer instead of shucking it off as the joke it was meant to be. He was the one who took his shirt off first, laying down and silently asking Richie to follow. He was the one who offered to make it a regular thing in a selfish attempt to bring his own fantasies to life.

Richie shots him a gentle smile before slipping out of the dorm. He says something about meeting a friend for dinner that Eddie doesn’t hear but hums in response to anyway. He’s too caught up in his own head to come up with a thoughtful response. He’s too caught up in his own emotions to even look at Richie as the door clicks shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, here's an update a day early! Also surprise - this is now 6 chapters long! Yay!
> 
> As always, thanks to the lovely Leighwrites (aizeninlefox.tumblr.com) for beta reading this fic for me. This chapter is also heavily inspired by some Stanlon Smut she wrote a little bit ago called Study Session (which I highly recommend everyone checks out).
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left comments/kudos/read this fic! I love you all and I hope you love this chapter. Drop a comment and let me know what you think of this. Validate me, please. 
> 
> Come talk about sad, angsty FWB Reddie with me @ reddie-for-anything.tumblr.com!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And there it is, it’s too late to bring it back. He can’t suck the words back into his head and pretend he didn’t say it. The wound, open and oozing, is Eddie’s own heart and now for the first time Richie can see Eddie for who he is.

They don’t fuck after that. Eddie keeps his distance from Richie. He ignores the texts and snapchats, locks his door, and keeps his head down on the sidewalk. He doesn’t shut Richie out altogether but there is an obvious change. He goes out of his way to make sure they’re never alone together. They hang out in Bev’s room together. They eat lunch in the café or off campus. They see each other in class. If he squints his eyes really hard and tilts his head to the side it almost looks like nothing has changed between them.

Except it has. Richie puts on a good face for it all but Eddie can tell the difference. He’s known Richie for long enough to be able to see the subtle cues. Richie’s smiles reach his eyes when everyone is looking but it drops as soon as they turn away. His laugh is louder than ever and his jokes are too raunchy. He’s practically begging people to look at him, to pay attention to him, to ask him what the fuck is going on.

Eddie knows what the fuck is going on.

They don’t talk about it. They haven’t tried. Eddie hasn’t explained his sudden withdrawal and Richie hasn’t asked. It would be the elephant in the room if the two of them were ever in a room without someone else to buffer the awkwardness but Eddie makes sure that never happens anymore.

If Eddie was being honest with himself he would admit that he couldn’t handle it anymore. He couldn’t handle the way Richie walked out of his door. He couldn’t handle that every time he had a reason and none of those reasons were that he wanted Eddie. He was stressed, he was angry, he was bored. There was always a reason and Richie always made sure to tell him. It was as if he needed Eddie to know that this was casual, like he needed to constantly remind Eddie that there was no commitment here. It was as if he was scared of Eddie catching feelings for him. Well, he’s about seven years too late for that. That ship has docked, boarded, and sailed a long, long time ago.

Eddie Kaspbrak isn’t honest, though. He’s the same coward he’s always been. He has never been able to handle confrontation. He can’t handle coming face to face with the choices he’s made that have led him to this exact spot: curled on his side, alone in his dorm with Adele playing softly from his laptop speakers.  

And fuck, maybe he was overreacting. Maybe in twenty years he would look back and remember this moment and think about how much worse it could be – how it really wasn’t that bad. But right here, right now, this was so huge he couldn’t breathe. Because in reality, Eddie has faced nothing quite like this up until now. He has never had his heart shattered into a million pieces. And while this surely won’t be the last time it happens, the first heartbreak is always, undoubtedly the hardest.

The worst part of this entire situation, though, is that he’s the one doing all the shattering. Richie didn’t break his heart. Richie didn’t end their arrangement, he didn’t break up with Eddie, he didn’t start seeing someone else or spit any kind of hurtful, mean thing in Eddie’s direction. Richie has done nothing but what Eddie has asked him to do. He agreed to fuck Eddie and then keep fucking him. He backed off when Eddie did. He still throws smiles, jokes, and texts Eddie’s way even when Eddie doesn’t reciprocate.

Richie is and always has been the perfect guy.

And next to Richie’s perfection is _just Eddie_. Eddie is just Eddie and he knows he doesn’t deserve Richie in any of the ways he’s had him through their lives. Not as a boyfriend, not as a lover, and not as a friend. It is better that this whole thing ends now before things get too messy.

Despite as much as he wants to, he can’t isolate himself forever. He would be happy to live out the rest of the year locked away in his dorm, finish the semester and then take the summer away. Maybe by the time they reached senior year things would be back to normal and Eddie wouldn’t feel like he was drowning every time he looked into those crystal blue eyes.

He has plans tonight though. It’s simple, nothing that required Eddie to dress up or put on nice clothes. Their whole group is taking over one of the student lounges to watch several Harry Potter movies back to back in a desperate attempt to de-stress. He would have tried to get out of it but Bill knows that he’s several parts ahead of his proposal and caught up in all of his other classes. There’s no excuse in the world that would keep one of the others to not break his door down and drag him out by force.

As the time ticks closer he begrudgingly drags himself off his bed and tugs on a pair of sweatpants. He picks through the clothes in his closet briefly before absently settling on a red Derry High hoodie he’s had for years. He can’t shake the mood he’s in. He knows the other are going to ask questions and pry in some kind-hearted attempt to make sure he’s okay, but he would rather jump off a cliff than indulge them. He would rather jump off a cliff than face his own shitty emotions and take responsibility for his own choices.

Eddie gets so caught up in his feelings that he doesn’t realize he’s late until he gets a _where are you_ text from Stan. By the time he makes it to the lounge the lights are off and Hagrid is looming over the Dursley family. He surveys the layout for a second, noting Bill and Ben settled on one couch, Richie on a chair, and Bev, Stan, and Mike wrapped up in on another on the floor. He grabs a slice of pizza from the center of the room, greeting everyone, and then opts for the empty loveseat, smiling as he receives several strange looks. He’s almost thankful he’s late because as quick as it happens its over and everyone’s attention is back on the movie.

Almost everyone’s, that is. Eddie can feel the weight of someone staring at him for the first half of the movie. He throws a look over his shoulder checking the windows and doors to see if anyone was loitering outside but he never finds anyone. It isn’t until he glances around the room that he sees Richie’s head snap back to the screen.

It makes Eddie shift in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. It’s almost as if his blood starts running hot and cold at the same time. He wants to get up, remove himself from the situation, but that will just raise further questions. He catches Richie staring at him two more times before the end credits roll. The second time he looks away but on the third he doesn’t bother. Eddie can barely make out his expression in the dim light but he does see the furrow of Richie brow and the way his mouth is set into a thin line.

Richie is the first one up when the credits roll. He makes an obscene piss joke and slips out the door quicker than anyone can say _Beep beep, Richie._ Eddie is almost relieved. He feels the pressure life off his chest for a moment as he stands to stretch his legs. The others greet him properly, bringing him into various hugs, before someone is popping in the second DVD and the skipping forward to the opening sequence of the Chamber of Secrets.

When Richie comes back Eddie keeps his eyes forward. He can feel that same burning gaze settled on him, burning under his skin and making him squirm. He tries to ignore it, waits for Richie to walk behind him and settle back on the chair, but he never does. Instead, Eddie feels the back of the couch pull back slightly as Richie vaults over it and lands on the cushion next to him. It’s jarring and Eddie whips his head to the side to see Richie sitting there, flashing his teeth at Eddie in a grin that both settles Eddie’s skin on fire and makes his stomach drop.

Richie doesn’t waste his time, he scoots over to Eddie before he can make an excuse to leave and rests his back against Eddie’s side. He hesitates, waiting a beat or two, before resting his entire body weight against Eddie and really leaning into it. By the time he’s settles he has Eddie completely pressed against the arm of the couch and his head rests on Eddie’s chest.

Despite his racing pulse, its more comfortable than Eddie wants to admit. Their bodies melt into each other as if they were made for this. This is the kind of thing they would always do before Eddie made things weird, even before they started this whole friends with benefits thing. Cuddling during movies, car rides, and sleep overs was a common occurrence between Richie and Eddie. No one even looked over at them when Richie slipped onto the couch. To the naked eye nothing was out of the ordinary.

Under the surface, though, under the skin, Eddie could feel his blood pumping hot and heavy through his system. He hasn’t been this close to Richie in weeks. It’s setting him off in all the ways he doesn’t want to be set off. His stomach is swooping, his heart is racing, and his skin is on fire everywhere Richie and him touch. It takes everything in his will power to keep his breathing steady, to not slip into some kind of hyperventilating panic attack just from being near Richie.

Eddie somehow manages to slow his body down and relax into it. He lets himself sink into the couch. The feeling of Richie’s weight against him shifts from an acute awareness to a dull presence in the back of his mind. It’s too easy to give into it even though Eddie knows he shouldn’t. He knows it’s going to make this pseudo-break up harder for both of them. He should shift, nudge Richie off of him and excuse himself, but he doesn’t. He wants this. He’s selfish and he wants all of the things he knows he can’t have. Richie in Eddie’s lap and his blue eyes occasionally flicking up to Eddie’s face is the closest thing he’s had to comfort since he made the choice to end their arrangement so Eddie lets himself have this like the selfish, selfish boy he is.

“I didn’t know you kept it,” Richie whispers some ways into the second movie. He isn’t watching, instead his head in angled up and he’s studying what he can see of Eddie’s face.

“What are you talking about?” Eddie doesn’t startle, he doesn’t even look down when he replies, instead directing his hushed voice toward the screen in front of them.

“My hoodie. I forgot I gave it to you. I haven’t seen it in years. I actually thought I lost it.” He can feel Richie bring his hand up and run it over the soft material on Eddie’s upper arm. Eddie doesn’t respond, he doesn’t move. His entire body tenses up as he tries to ignore the feeling of Richie running his hand up and down his arm before settling back and turning towards Harry in the bathroom with Moaning Myrtle.

Eddie hadn’t even realize the hoodie he grabbed was Richie’s but now it’s all he can think about. He remembers the day he took it. He was cold and broke into Richie’s locker at school sometime during their senior year. Richie just laughed at him and told him he looked cute in it. The compliment made Eddie’s skin grow warmer than the hoodie ever could but he kept it regardless. It became such a staple part of their freshman year of college Eddie almost forgot it wasn’t his.

They watched the movie in silence after that. Eddie let himself slip into comfort. Richie’s warmth against him was borderline intoxicating, it was impossible to stay rigid or alert, impossible to stay inside his own head. Years of close contact and a strong friendship had trained him to relax on contact with Richie.

Eddie gets so wrapped up in his on world, in his own selfish desire for contact and warmth and comfort that he misses the buzz that vibrates through the couch. Unfortunately for him he didn’t miss the flash of dim light from Richie’s phone as Richie pulled it out of his pocket to check the text he received. And Eddie didn’t mean to look, he’ll swear that up and down until the day he dies, but he couldn’t help the reflexive glance down. He couldn’t stop his eyes from locking onto the light or his brain from registering the _you up?_ text that sat on the bottom of the screen. He couldn’t help the way his eyes scanned up and saw the other texts trailing to the top.

 _I had fun last night. Can I see you again? Want you._ All peppered throughout the screen, little blue and white bubbles up and down. Eddie can’t even tell who sent what message before his eyes are flicking back up to the movie.

Eddie can’t help the way his stomach churns and skin crawls. Fuck.

Eddie can’t focus after that. He desperately tries to watch the movie but he can’t keep his attention on the screen for more than a couple minutes at a time.

When the movie ends Eddie waits an appropriate amount of time before gently slipping out from underneath Richie. He mentions a bathroom break, hopefully something that won’t turn any heads, before he’s out the door. When the door shuts he’s all but running down the hall, throwing himself into the dorm bathroom and turning the water on to splash his face. He can feel his chest constricting. The weight of everything is borderline suffocating and its crashing down around him. He wants Richie. He wants him so bad but he’s gone and fucked it all up. He couldn’t just be happy with their friendship, no. He had to go and fuck him every other day for months and then destroy their entire friendship because he can’t own up to his own shit.

He rips the sweater off, desperate to get rid of that choking feeling in his throat, and brings his head back down to the sink to splash himself with cold water again. The relief he finds in it is short lived, however, because when he looks back up at the mirror he sees Richie’s reflection, slightly offset and behind his own.

“You okay?” Richie’s voice bounces off the titled floor and wall, echoing around the otherwise empty bathroom.

“I’m fine,” Eddie replies, not bothering to turn around and face Richie. A reflection he can handle. The real deal? Not so much.

“You’re obviously not,” Richie presses.

Eddie wants to tell him what’s wrong. He wants Richie to press him until the truth comes out so he can scream and cry and be angry at the Richie and the world but mostly himself. He can feel the jealousy lingering dangerously close to the edge of his tongue, ready to reveal its ugly head. “Go back to the movie, Rich.”

“No, not until you tell me what’s going on,” Richie blows past Eddie’s weak attempt to end the conversation, maybe foolishly so. Eddie can feel his blood rising, his grasp on the situation slipping.

“Nothing is going on,” Eddie tries. He’s trying to stand his ground, trying to end this before it can start. There’s no good way to have this fight but the clock is ticking down, closer and closer to the inevitable.

“Something is obviously going on or else you wouldn’t be shutting me out like this!”

“Why don’t you just go back to your fucking booty call,” Eddie cuts back, voice dripping like venom against an open wound.

And there it is, it’s too late to bring it back. He can’t suck the words back into his head and pretend he didn’t say it. The wound, open and oozing, is Eddie’s own heart and now for the first time Richie can see Eddie for who he is. The look on Richie’s face would be priceless if it were anyone else, but Eddie isn’t sure he’s going to be able to get over the hurt mixed in with the shock.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the actual fuck, Eds?”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Eddie spits as he spins around to level Richie with a look.

“Is _that_ what this is about?” Richie’s voice rises, almost hysterical. Eddie watches as he shakes his head and runs his hands through his hair before looking back down at Eddie. His shoulders are shaking with what almost looks like a laugh.

Eddie scrubs his hands down his face, muffling his voice. “No, it’s –”

“Since when are we not allowed to fuck other people, huh?”

“Richie, stop.”

“No, Eddie. Since when? This whole thing was your idea, remember?” Richie’s voice drops to a dangerous tone as he speaks. There’s force behind his question that takes Eddie by surprise. The shock doesn’t ease the boil in his blood, though.

“Yeah, I fucking know that.”

“And _you’re_ the one who called it off!”

“I never called it off,” Eddie scoffs, looking away from Richie. If he really argues he never called it off but the two of them know he’s just hiding behind technicalities. A mouse in men’s shoes.

“Oh, cut the shit, Eddie. You stopped answering my texts, you stopped letting me come over, fuck you barely even talk to me anymore.” Richie counts off with his fingers, backing Eddie up into a corner. He’s right and they both know it. There’s no arguing here, only making it worse.

“You knew how important this was to me!” Eddie cries. It’s a low blow, but he’s desperate to win, desperate to make Richie out to be the bad guy so maybe he can leave this with an ounce of dignity intact. Logic abandoned this argument a long time ago and Eddie is rely solely on the raw nerve endings of his emotions.

“Actually, no I fucking didn’t. You never told me it was important to you!”

Without thinking, Eddie balls up the hoodie and hurls it across the small space at Richie. “Well, it was! It was my first fucking time, Richie! You’re the only person I’ve ever slept with. I thought I meant more to you than some fucking booty call!” He doesn’t mean to yell but it comes out loud, harsh. He’s so angry, so hurt, caught so deep in this well he’s created for himself that he doesn’t even know how to stop himself.

“Of course you do! You’re my best fucking friend!”

“Yeah well it doesn’t fucking feel like that anymore, now does it!”

Richie’s eyes darken and his mouth sets into a thin line before he says, “I asked you if you were sure, Eddie, and you said yes. This isn’t on me.”

The air around them suddenly become empty, silence filling the space where their screaming used to be. Eddie doesn’t respond. Instead, he keeps his head down, holding firm eye contact with the tile floor. Richie doesn’t speak either, which might be more unsettling than their entire fight. After what feels like hours, years even, Eddie hears Richie’s low voice, unmistakable anger laced throughout it, “For whatever it’s worth, I never fucked anyone else while we were hooking up.”

Then he’s gone, turning on his heels and marching out of the bathroom and down the hall in the direction of the lounge. If the bathroom was quiet before, it’s like a vacuum of silence now. It’s so thick Eddie almost feels like he’s drowning in it. The only sounds are the ringing in his ears and the blood pumping through his skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry. 
> 
> I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this but instead I'm gonna drop something special tomorrow so yay for another early update! Huge thanks to everyone who has liked, shared, read and commented on this fic. Its so motivating and makes me so soft. I love you all. 
> 
> Go love Leighwrites. She just dropped an AMAZING Losers!Murder AU called A Night in Neibolt that I am losing my mind for. It's such a good read. Go love her up. 
> 
> Did this chapter hurt you? Did it make you sad or angry? Am I a terrible person? Do you want more smut? If the answer to any of these questions is yes come yell at me @ reddie-for-anything.tumblr.com because I 100% deserve it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much worse could things possibly get? The semester ends a month, Richie and Eddie haven’t spoken a word to each other in the better part of two weeks, and shit had already gone to hell. He may as well take the jump.
> 
> He was already falling anyway.

“Oh god,  _ Eddie _ .”

Eddie’s back arches as he feels the grip on his hips tighten. He presses his face harder into the pillow, biting back a moan as the thrusts get harder, more erratic. Small shockwaves of pleasure shoot down his spine as he feels the cock inside of him brush occasionally against that sweet, sweet spot he loves so much. The angle isn’t quite right to hit it continuously and Eddie finds himself wiggling his hips back and forth, whining desperately for more of that delicious pleasure. 

His skin is burning, alight with every flash on skin he feels against his. The room is so hot, sweat is beading in Eddie’s hairline and on his back and around his stomach where he’s lifted off the bed. If Eddie lets his eyes close and lets himself get lost in his own pleasure he can almost let himself believe that it’s Richie on top of him. 

He feels a hand settle in between his shoulder blades, the other keeping its firm hold on his hips to keep them up high. 

_ Your arch game is fucking magnificent, Eds. _

“God, Eddie. You feel so damn good.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin is so loud it almost drowns out the deep moans from above him. Eddie’s own pleasure is soft and distant, the brushes against his prostate too few and far between and the way he’s being filled just isn’t as satisfying as it used to be. It’s becoming clearer and clearer to Eddie that he’s not going to come from this alone so he reaches up underneath himself and takes hold of his own cock, pumping it in time with the thrusts he feels. 

He knows what he likes. He knows when to flick his own wrist and when to run his thumb over the head, smoothing over the slit or rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves under the head. It doesn’t take long for him to feel the static that comes with his impending orgasm. It isn’t as intense as he knows it can be, but it’s there. He feels his body tense and gives himself a steady flick of the wrist before he comes all over the sheets below him. 

Chad isn’t too far behind. He chases his orgasm, moaning loudly at the way Eddie clenches around him in the wake of his own pleasure. With one particularly hard thrust they’re both falling forward onto the mattress, Chad’s hips jerking as he rides it out. When he’s done, he slowly pulls out and ties the condom off, running a soothing hand over Eddie’s lower back once and grabbing his ass. 

Eddie is quick to roll away. He can feel his own come drying on his stomach where he landed on it. There was no use trying to avoid it, Chad’s weight was nothing he was prepared for. He beelines it for the bathroom in Chad’s suite, locking himself inside for moment to clean up and make himself look decent. 

The feeling burning in his stomach isn’t quite shame or guilt, but a distant dissatisfaction. The decision to text Chad and make the cross campus trip was driven by his need for comfort and his lack of sound decision making. He wanted to put as much space as possible between himself and his feelings for Richie and what better way to do that than by physically putting something between them?

When he emerges, dressed in the clothes he grabbed on his way in, Chad is already dressed and laying on the couch in the common room. He smiles softly at Eddie and pats the spot next to him. He had said his roommates were out all day and while Eddie believes him he can’t shake the anxiety of having someone he doesn’t know walk in on them doing anything, even something as innocent as watching television. 

Chad must sense it because before Eddie can open his mouth to speak he’s on his feet, reaching for Eddie’s hands. 

“We don’t have to watch TV. We can do anything you want,” Chad quickly rambles, looking a cross between eager and nervous.

“Chad,”

“No, don’t go yet. We don’t have to do anything. I just – I want to spend some real time with you. Not just in class or at the bar or in your ass. I think you’re more than that, Eddie Kaspbrak. Please.” Eddie watches as Chad speaks before closing his eyes and taking a soft breath. Chad’s voice is soft, sincerity seeping out of every word. Eddie can’t help but consider it. Those are the kinds of words he wants to hear but the voice is wrong. It’s too deep, too husky for it to be right. He misses the way Richie’s voice wouldn’t float, but would crash through the room. Richie gave people no choice but to listen when he spoke, but Chad’s is soft and gentle. His voice could get lost in a crowd. It gets lost to Eddie right now. 

“This was great, Chad. Really. And you’re great! I just don’t think I’m ready for this, yet. I’m not –” Eddie cuts himself off, taking a deep breath. Chad, bless his heart, nods. His eyes don’t betray the soft smile on his lips. If he’s taking this whole thing personally he sure as hell isn’t showing it. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Chad reassures, gently holding Eddie’s arms where they’ve come up to grip his own shirt. “We don’t have to watch TV and we don’t have to fuck again. But I would love to be your friend at some point, if you want?” 

Eddie just nods. He can’t really bring himself to say anything else. This isn’t where he wants to be and they both know it. Chad just brings Eddie in for a quick hug, resting his chin on Eddie’s head for a moment before pulling back and walking him to the door. 

Chad calls to him one more time on his way out. “And Eddie? Just so you know, sleeping with me or anyone else won’t help you get over him. Whoever he is.”

Eddie doesn’t turn around. He hardly pauses at Chad’s words but he does nod, hoping Chad sees the small tilt of his head. Deep down he knew this wouldn’t fix things, but god he hoped it would. He thought maybe, just maybe, sleeping with someone else would show him that Richie isn’t all Eddie made him out to be. 

But he is. He’s Richie Fucking Tozier. The same Richie Tozier who slept in a chair at the hospital when Eddie broke his arm when they were twelve. The same Richie Tozier who spent countless hours watching bad movies with him in the middle of the night. The same Richie Tozier who never failed to make him shoot milk out of his nose at the lunch table. Eddie has been in love with Richie for years. It’s been so long that he doesn’t even remember when his feelings morphed from platonic to all consuming. It was never about the sex. It was about Richie and everything he is. 

But that’s all over now and there’s only one person to blame. Richie wasn’t his inevitable downfall, it was himself in the end and now he’s left to sort through the wreckage he’s caused. The worst part of it isn’t even his broken heart, it’s the sense of loneliness he’s found with the absence of his best friend. He could live without dating Richie, he has most of his life. It’s the empty, soundless void Richie left behind that Eddie can’t stand. 

He has to face the consequences of his actions and losing Richie was the worst gamble he’s ever taken. 

Despite this knowledge, despite knowing that Richie is everything he’s ever wanted and Chad is not, Eddie still finds himself in Chad’s dorm. It’s almost comforting for Eddie to know that someone wants him. Chad finds him desirable and he’s said as much on multiple occasions. Eddie is sweet, Eddie is smart, Eddie is attractive, Eddie makes him feel good. These are all the kinds of words Eddie has longed to hear and when Chad says them he thinks he can feel the open wound in his chest being pulled closed stitch by stitch. 

It’s comforting, Eddie thinks, to be desired by someone instead of used. 

“Hey sweet cheeks!” Chad calls when Eddie slips through the door to his suite. He isn’t in the common room but that doesn’t stop him from knowing it’s Eddie who walked through the door. “How's your paper coming along?”

Eddie smiles to himself before answering. “Hey Chad! I actually think it’s killing me.” 

“Fuck, me, too,” Chad answers, walking out of his room and falling dramatically onto the couch. “I think we both need to take a break from it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Eddie laughs, falling next to him. His laugh is genuine and it feels good. That hollow feeling in his stomach doesn’t go away but he doesn’t feel so empty when he’s here. 

“Got anything in mind, hot stuff?” Chad asks. It’s evident he already has something in mind because he curls in on Eddie as soon as Eddie hits the couch. Eddie just laughs again, the sound coming out of him breathy and thin as Chad’s lips connect with his neck. He’s gentle as he sucks and nips at the skin under Eddie’s jaw, moving down and grazing his teeth over his collar bone. 

Eddie can’t help the comparisons that invade his mind. Sleeping with Chad is different than sleeping with Richie. Chad is soft, his kisses don’t sear down the side of his neck the ways Richie’s did. Instead, they glide down. His hands don’t always leave impressions in his hips the way Richie’s did. Chad doesn’t control Eddie’s movements, he doesn’t hold him down and fuck into him relentlessly. More often than not Eddie finds himself on top, bearing his hips down and chasing his own orgasm in the ways he knows he needs. It’s easy for his mind to slip away from them, wandering off to their next assignment or what Eddie’s planning on having for dinner later on. 

The sex with Chad is okay. Really, it is. It’s just… lacking. 

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, shrugging away from Chad’s teeth on his skin. This doesn’t seem to discourage Chad. Instead, he shifts to meet Eddie’s collarbone, scraping his teeth long the sensitive skin before making his way back up to Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie instinctively relaxes into the kiss. It starts off sweet and slow before gradually deepening. He opens his mouth when he feels Chad’s tongue swipe along his lower lip. It doesn’t take long before he’s being laid down on the couch with Chad’s weight pressing down on top of him. Chad takes his time, exploring Eddie’s mouth as if he’s trying to map it out.

Normally, Eddie thinks it’s nice to be under Chad. He likes the feeling of Chad’s soft weight, how Chad’s arms cage around his face. Right now, though, it feels more like a prison than anything else. Eddie can feel the ghost of his long-dead asthma itching inside of his chest. He breaks the kiss and takes two deep breaths before getting his hands on Chad’s chest and pushing him gently. 

Chad, bless his soul, gets the hint and throws his weight backwards to free Eddie. 

“Whoa, hey! Are you okay?” He asks, voice breathy and frantic at the same time. He looks like he’s about to reach out for Eddie when he thinks better of it. 

“Yeah,” Eddie gasps, taking one more deep breath through the nose before sitting up himself. “Yeah, I’m okay. Fuck, sorry about that.”

Chad doesn’t say anything at first, he just watches Eddie carefully. After what feels like an eternity he says, “You know we don’t have to do anything, right?”

Eddie nods, looking Chad over. This isn’t fair. Chad is a good guy. He would be perfect for Eddie if he wasn’t so hung up on someone who would never love him back. 

“I can’t see you anymore,” comes out more on automatic than anything else. Naturally, Chad’s entire face falls into the abysmal canyon that comes with breaking up. Except they’re not breaking up because they were never anything solid in the first place. Just two dudes fucking. Which is, coincidentally, exactly what Eddie and Richie were doing. 

Suddenly, Eddie feels like the world’s biggest asshole. 

“I’m sorry. I really am. It’s just – fuck. I can tell you’re so much more into this than I am. It’s not fair to you. I’m basically stringing you along.”

Chad recovers quickly. He picks his jaw off the floor and shakes his head slightly before answering. “I just kinda hoped you were slow on the pickup.”

“It’s not you, I promise,” Eddie continues, watching Chad flinches at his downright awful word choice. “I’m serious! It’s me. I’m still not over my ex and getting you involved was a really shitty thing to do.”

Eddie waits for Chad to respond, to say anything at all that would indicate he understands. He doesn’t and the air hangs heavy between them. 

“Sleeping with you isn’t going to help me get over him.”

Chad throws his head back, suddenly, barking out a laugh that is equal parts sincere and tragic. 

“Fuck! Way to use my own words against me, Kaspbrak!” He sighs, voice light. When his face falls back into view there is a smile painted on his lips. Its pained and a little but forced, but it’s there and Eddie releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

Chad’s smile is infectious and Eddie goes from holding back tears to full on laughing on Chad’s couch. Chad laughs, too, because what the fuck? It’s all said and done, anyway, and as he later puts it there’s no use crying over spoiled sex. 

Chad and Eddie end as quickly as they started and, thankfully for Eddie, there is no big bang that follow behind them. Sex doesn’t have to be this big, meaningful, life changing thing. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing and people aren’t always destroyed in the aftermath. And even though Eddie finds himself alone as he walks back to his room he feels like a weight has lifted off of his shoulders. 

They had a small heart to heart before they left. Eddie didn’t spill everything but he did tell Chad he was still hung up on someone and he felt like a lost child on the playground. He had made such a mess of his feelings and now he was all caught up in the aftermath with no light to guide him. Chad just rolls his eyes in the most sarcastically good-natured way he could before asking, “Well, have you talked to him about any of this?”

And well, no. Eddie hadn’t. And maybe that was the issue here. Maybe Chad had a point. How much worse could things possibly get? The semester ends a month, Richie and Eddie haven’t spoken a word to each other in the better part of two weeks, and shit had already gone to hell. He may as well take the jump.

He was already falling anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update!
> 
> Because I've been working on House of the Damned, the final chapter of this might not be out for a little bit so I wanted to drop this one a little bit early. I hope you enjoy it! We're almost done!
> 
> I deff feel like a walking fic commercial but I will not stop supporting my friends! Make sure you check out LeighWrite's fic A Night in Neibolt!
> 
> OldGuyBones also suddenly dropped an absolute masterpiece called Meet Me In The Graveyard, and it's amazing????? Seriously, go check it out. Its an interactive horror AU and its absolutely stunning. 
> 
> And finally, TinyArmedTrex and I are working on a horror fic called House of the Damned, so if you're into horror and suspense, check it out!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still, he walks. Each step he takes brings him further away from one emotionally charged bad decision and closer to another. He can see Richie’s dorm in the distance. It's far enough away that if Richie were to look out of his window he wouldn’t see Eddie. He wouldn’t recognize the figure taking perfectly spaced, calculated steps that would put him directly outside of Richie’s door.

There really is no escaping it now, is there? Not really, no. Eddie can feel a raw, vulnerable excitement tickling the skin around his chest, his ribs, his biceps, his legs. Its screaming at him to _run, run as fast as you can! Go to him!_

At the same time his body is screaming at him to go, his heart and stomach giving him a very conflicting report. _No, Eddie. Don’t. You’ve been hurt too much. This isn’t worth the rejection._

Still, he walks. Each step he takes brings him further away from one emotionally charged bad decision and closer to another. He can see Richie’s dorm in the distance. It's far enough away that if Richie were to look out of his window he wouldn’t see Eddie. He wouldn’t recognize the figure taking perfectly spaced, calculated steps that would put him directly outside of Richie’s door. Steps that will place him there in no less than ten minutes. Steps that will force them both to come face to face with the mess they’ve created.

The mess Eddie created.

Fuck. This was a bad idea. Everything about this situation was screaming _no, no, no. You can’t do this, you can’t face this monster._ There was nothing brave about the choices he was making. There was nothing serene about the way he was riding into a losing battle. Not when he started the war.

Eddie was the dud in the matchbox from day one. When he was little his hands shook in ways that were unprovoked. His breathing wheezed in a way that was unprompted. While other kids scraped their knees and got B’s in gym class Eddie sat on the side with his medical notes and forced illnesses. He counted pills while his friends counted their Pokémon cards. He paled in comparison to others then, and he still does now.  

And what does it even matter now, anyway? Eddie spent years learning how to slow his breathing and steady his hands but he never really got the hang of this whole person thing. He spent so long locked up that even now he was still learning the ropes. It’s no wonder he’s gone and fucked up one of the only relationships in his life that ever truly mattered. Sure, he’s got the other Losers but without Richie it all falls apart. The Lucky Seven can’t be Lucky Five with the ever changing Sixth role rotating in and out. It can’t be Eddie or Richie and right now it sure as hell can’t be both.

Eddie finds himself outside of Richie’s dorm faster than he intends to be. He can hear the music on the other side; loud enough to pump through the speakers but quiet enough to keep his RA off his back. He toys with the idea of just going inside like he used to. He knows the door is unlocked and it would save him the pain of hearing Richie move around on the other side. It would save him the suspense as the music gets lowered and the telltale sound of footsteps approach the door. He wouldn’t have to feel the way his heart slams harder and harder in his chest as he waits for the knob to twist and the door to gently ease in. The way Richie’s face will shift from a gentle, accepting curiosity to the disdain Eddie knows he harbors.

He doesn’t, though. He stands there, shifting on the balls of his feet until he feels like he can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t even notice the way his heart does actually speed up and his breathing grows shallow and thin. He can’t feel the way his hands shake at his sides. He doesn’t notice anything until his vision starts to blur and he starts to wobble. But by then it’s too late. He’s on his knees in a matter of seconds, air rasping in and out of the pinhole in his throat.

Stupidly and without thinking, Eddie bangs on the door in front of him. He doesn’t really know what else to do. He couldn’t move now. There was no way he would be able to stand and walk away until this passed. He could stay on his knees and wait until he either died or was found by someone walking down the hall but neither of those options seemed all that great.

When the door opens Eddie fully expects Richie to laugh at him. Or maybe just shut it in his face. He deserves either option, honestly. After everything he said to Richie, after the way he left things. He wouldn’t be surprised if Richie left him to die on the floor. It would be fitting. Eddie’s body sprawled pathetically in front of Richie’s room, choked on his own shame and shitty life choices.

“Eddie, fuck! Are you okay?” Richie’s voice is steady, hands firm on Eddie’s shoulders. He kneels in front of Eddie quickly and shifts him so they’re level with each other.

Eddie doesn’t reply. He just nods his head gently, breath coming in and out in small puffs. His eyes lock with Richie’s and through the panic and haze Eddie can see a twinge of concern there. It mirrors how they were when they were little. Eddie would have an asthma attack and Richie would work him through it. Richie would hold his hands and push his aspirator between his teeth and calm him down. Except there are no asthma attacks and his aspirator has been a distant memory for years now.

“Breath with me,” Richie says, moving his hands from Eddie’s shoulders down to his wrists. “In for four, hold for four, out for four.” Eddie watched Richie does this once by himself and then tries to copy the pattern on the second round. By the third time he manages to match Richie, which earns him an eager nod and a fourth breath in. Soon, Richie has managed to bring Eddie’s breathing back down to a regular pace and, low and behold, the pressure on his chest has let up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” is all Eddie manages. Its weak and dry but it comes out. Richie stands, and offers Eddie a hand off the ground.

“What are you doing here? Your dorm is on the other side of campus,” Richie asks. He looks at Eddie more carefully now. The concern that was once in his eyes has been replaced with something more cautious, more guarded than before. He drops Eddie’s hand as soon as he’s standing and looks at the space between them as if its tainted, ruined just by Eddie’s presence.

“Yeah, it is.” Well, it’s now or never. “I came by to talk to you.”

The look that crosses over Richie’s face is almost comical. Eddie doesn’t have the words to describe it but if he did he would call it a cross between shocked, scared, and disgusted.

“Oh. Yeah, okay. Sure. And what did you wanna talk about, Eddie? Wanted to come by and go through my phone again? Maybe yell at me some more?”

“No, Richie. I just wanted to talk.”

Richie turns at this and crosses into his dorm. Eddie expects him to shut the door in his face but he doesn’t. He just stands there staring at Eddie until he realizes that this is an invitation.

“Okay, talk.” The last word is punctuated by the click of the door. Richie had never been this cold with Eddie before. It’s never like this. There is almost no emotion in the way he speaks. Eddie can see the tension in Richie’s shoulders, the way they are too close to his ears. There is a stiffness in his arms, in his entire body.

“I’m sorry,” is all that comes out at first. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, working the words through his brain. It doesn’t seem like enough. It’s not. Not after everything he did.

“Don’t sweat it, Eds. I’m fine.” Richie says as he turns and sits on his bed. His voice is tight and his smile is too thin. “Besides, it looks like you’ve got a new man, anyway.”

Eddie blanches at this. How the fuck did Richie know? He goes to say something but Richie cuts him off. It’s as if the gates are open and Richie Trashmouth Tozier can’t seem to pull them shut again; the words pouring out like a monsoon.

“What, did you fuck Chad just to get back at me? Huh? You call it off and then you get mad when I fuck someone else, so you go and do the same thing? I went to find you, you know. Your RA told me. Said you’ve been spending a lot of time out of your room.”

“I was confused, I just –” Eddie tries. The justifications forming, the excuses hanging off his lips but Richie doesn’t even give him a chance.

“Oh, yeah. It’s so confusing. Must have gotten the directions messed up, yeah? I can see how yelling about how special sex is and then going and fucking the first guy you see can be really confusing.” Eddie knows why Richie says it but that doesn’t stop it from stinging any less. He can feel is blood begin to boil beneath the surface. Hot, nasty shame mixing with burning honesty.

“I thought you didn’t want anything exclusive, Richie. Isn’t that why _you’re_ fucking other people?” Eddie knows, _he knows_ , that fighting will only make this worse but he can’t stop himself. It’s just too fucking much. Richie has always lit a fire inside of Eddie, and for better or for worse that flame burns on.

“Stop throwing that in my face, god dammit!”

“I’m not. I just – I mean I’m fucking right, you know. You are.” Eddie scrubs his hands down his face and turns to pace. The room goes quiet. Eddie doesn’t even look at Richie. He can’t. He can hear them both breathing, the clock ticking, his own blood pumping through his ears. Just as he thinks this is getting them nowhere, that coming over here was just another big mistake to add to Eddie’s ledger, Richie speaks again.

“Were. And I know what I was doing, you don’t need to tell me.”

“Were?” Eddie chances a look at Richie. He’s got his hands in his lap and his eyes cast down. The tightness in his shoulders has melted away and he offers a weak shrug in response.

“Yeah. Good old Dick Tozier’s well has gone as dry as a bone.”

“Sorry for your loss.”

Richie looks up at him for a moment. Their gaze holds for almost too long and Eddie can feel the sweat starting to bud on the back of his neck. _This is it,_ he thinks. Richie is going to snap, he’s going to yell, he’s going to pick Eddie up and remove him from his room, from his life, forever.

Instead, Richie barks out a laugh. It’s starts hard and fast and it doesn’t stop. Eddie finds himself laughing, too. Slowly, at first, but then he’s doubled over and they’re both practically crying over themselves. Its consuming, the way they’re both laughing. Every ounce of tension in the room breaks and if Eddie just focuses on the way the laughter feels in his chest, light and carefree, he can almost pretend nothing ever happened between them. He can almost pretend that this is normal.

Richie’s laughter starts to taper off first. His shoulders keep shaking and he’s sucking down air like it's God’s gift to the world and Eddie thinks he’s beautiful. His eyes shine with unshed tears, the corners decorated with laughter lines. Red tints the skin around his cheeks, highlighting the few freckles he has splattered around the skin there. His mop of black curls frames his face, his eyes, his jaw, and everything Eddie ever tried to forget comes flooding back.

Richie Tozier is the most beautiful thing Eddie has ever laid his eyes on. And he is totally, completely head over heels.

“Fuck, Eds. Still got some bite in you, don’t’cha?” Richie says and even his voice is lighter. The heavy, weighted tone from before has all but vanished and while Richie’s smile isn’t the bright, blinding thing Eddie used to know its there. It’s faint and hidden behind guarded emotions, but it’s there. A slight upturn of his lips, a fond softness in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles back. He wipes his own eyes and casually drags a hand through his own hair. He doesn’t hide the way he looks at Richie and Richie doesn’t hide the way he looks back. The words that come out next aren’t meant to happen but it’s almost fitting. Even if there was a plan, nothing is going accordingly so Eddie may as well just let his dam break, too. “I miss you."

Richie doesn’t miss a beat. “I miss you, too,” comes out and Eddie can hear the emotion behind the words. He can hear the strain in the room. He can feel everything and nothing and he hopes to all that is good in the world that it’s not just him projecting. “We had something good, didn’t we? I mean, I thought it was good.”

“Yeah,” Eddie replies, quick and rushed and maybe too eager to reassure Richie. He can see it in Richie’s eyes, all the doubt and scuttled emotions he’s never good at hiding. “It was good, Richie. Real good.”

Richie opens his mouth a few times, working through whatever he wants to say. Eddie lets him. This thing that have right now, its fragile and tender. Eddie can feel it in his fingertips. One wrong move and they’re through.

“What happened, then? If we were good… Was it me? I know I was pushy but you just shut me out? I just thought –”

“Richie, no. It wasn’t you. I promise. It was me –”

“– that maybe there was actually something there.”

“– I was being selfish.”

Their words cross over each other to the point where it’s almost impossible to tell who said what. Eddie almost doesn’t catch what Richie said but that doesn’t matter because even when Eddie stops talking Richie doesn’t. Richie keeps going, keeps spilling his heart out. It’s as if his arms are covered in emotional tattoos that he’s never been able to hide. Richie Tozier simply cannot keep himself contained.

“I just wanted it so bad. I shouldn’t have but I did. And now it’s all fucked up. Now I don’t get any of you. I don’t even get to be your friend anymore. I want it back, Eddie. I want you back.” Richie’s voice cracks at the end and it drives the knife right into Eddie’s heart. He’s in front of Richie in a second, kneeling on the ground and grabbing Richie’s hands, his arms, whatever Richie will let him touch. He looks so vulnerable like this. So open and exposed, a raw nerve.

“You have me, Rich. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

When Richie looks at him, really looks, it’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Richie’s eyes burn holes into his own, into his skin, his soul. Richie’s deep blue is magnified both by their proximity and by the thick lenses in his glasses. They’re wide and blue and borderline terrified and Eddie is just trapped. He’s trapped and he knows now he’s never going to escape. He doesn’t want to.

It happens the way a wave meets the shoreline. They crash together, intense and fierce, and then pull back before going in for more. It’s the same push and pull that’s driven by the moon and Eddie thinks that maybe there’s some cosmic force out there driving them together.

They’ll always come back together. They’re meant to be together. The slide of Richie’s lips against his own, the way he pulls away and then pushes back in. They were meant for this. His mind becomes a swirling haze of everything Richie until they’re trapped together in a hurricane of nothing.  

Its messy, too. It’s always been messy with them but this time it feels different. It feels bigger. The mess isn’t just contained to clicking teeth and desperate hands. It’s so much more than that. It’s the flood of emotions kept back for so long that when they’re finally set free and they’re everywhere. They’re there in the way Eddie pressed his entire body against Richie. They’re laced in the way Richie’s hands thread through Eddie’s hair. They’re even present in the way Eddie softly moans into Richie’s open mouth.

Eddie ends up on the bed, on top of Richie with his legs on either side of his hips. He practically crawled up the length of Richie’s body, pressing him down into the sheets without disconnecting their lips. He can’t separate them, not now. Not after how long he’s waited for this. Richie’s hands are splayed across his thighs burning handprints into the material of his jeans, searing the skin beneath. He can’t help the way his body rolls down, the way his hips involuntarily grind down into Richie’s.

“God dammit, _Eddie_ ,” Richie says, breaking the kiss and practically whining into his ear. It’s so much. Eddie can feel the way Richie moves under him. The way his hips stutter up into Eddie’s and the soft moan that ghosts over the shell of Eddie’s ear. Eddie meets him motion for motion until they’re both panting. Eddie’s face presses in to the tacky skin of Richie’s neck and he can’t help himself. He presses open, wet kisses right up to the junction between Richie’s neck and jaw. There he bites, gently scraping his teeth down the tender flesh. Richie keens, arching slightly off the bed and dragging his hands up Eddie’s back and under his shirt. “ _Fuck_.”

Maybe it’s too much too fast but Eddie can’t find it in him to stop. Neither can Richie, apparently, because his hips don’t stop rolling, his hands don’t stop roaming. He doesn’t stop those sweet, sweet noises falling from his lips. And the way he says Eddie’s name is like heaven in his ears. It’s like drugs in his veins.

Richie all but clings to Eddie as he makes his way down Richie’s neck. He nips at the skin there, kissing and gently soothing the sting over with his tongue as he goes. He pauses at the junction of Richie’s shoulder and inhales, taking in the scent of everything Richie is and always has been. He smells like cheap dollar store cologne, faded cigarettes, and _Richie_. It makes Eddie’s head swim, fills him until he’s overflowing and soaked in his own nostalgia.

Eddie drags his own hands up Richie’s shirt, feeling every bump and curve and dip in Richie’s stomach and chest as he goes. Richie is warm. His skin trembles underneath Eddie. Eddie drags his nails down Richie’s chest once and Richie arches again. It’s enough for Eddie to get the shirt bunched up around Richie’s armpits and then slip it over his shoulders and off.

He sits back on his heels and looks at Richie. Really looks. He does it because he can. They’ve never done it like this before, not quite. Even that first time, they were so sheltered, so nervous. At least Eddie was. Now he’s brave. He’s bold and determined and so, so ready. Because he knows what it’s like to lose Richie, even if it was his own fault. He knows what it’s like to go without and there’s nothing really to lose anymore.

Richie’s hands come up to cup Eddie’s face at the same time Eddie whispers his name. Its soft, gentle, and packed full of everything he’s never said before. Richie pulls him down for another kiss and Eddie thinks it might be better than the first, if that’s even possible. Richie’s lips are soft and smooth and the slide together perfectly with Eddie’s. He deepens the kiss, dipping his tongue into Eddie’s mouth. After a while, he slides Eddie’s own shirt up and over, leveling the playing field. He leaves trails of goosebumps and fire as he runs his hands down Eddie’s chest, mapping the skin and pressing his palms against Eddie’s body.

They break apart, then, and Eddie can’t help but look into Richie’s eyes. Can’t help the way his heart twists and his mouth goes dry as Richie says, “I can’t believe I ever let you go.”

“I can’t believe I was too stupid to stay,” Eddie says back.

“No,” Richie runs his hands through Eddie’s hair and down his back, punctuating the word with a quick kiss. “I should have made you stay. I should have told you how I felt.”

“We were both stupid,” Eddie laughs. Richie smiles back and they settle like that for a moment. Eddie on top of Richie. Richie running his hands over every inch of Eddie he can reach. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Richie doesn’t miss a beat, thank god. The way his smile practically doubles could break his face in half. “I _know_ I'm in love with you.”

Eddie doesn’t think, he doesn’t register anything besides the way he presses his lips against Richie’s as he crashes down on to him. He doesn’t have the words to reply but the way they move together, the way he presses into Richie is enough to bare his entire soul. Its fast and hard and Eddie gets his own lip caught once or twice in the fray but he doesn’t care. He couldn’t give two shits about that because Richie just told him he loved him. Richie, who is everything Eddie has ever wanted and thought he needed to live without, has spilled part of his own heart onto the bedspread. His hands basically pull at the shirt Richie’s wearing as Richie grips his waist, digging tiny little crescent moons onto the skin.

Gradually, they slow down. The passionate press of them against each other fades into a pleasant rhythm. Eddie ends up on his back when Richie pushes on his shoulders and leans him back, gently laying him down before continuing their kiss. He dips is tongue in, lazily tracing Eddie’s own. They move against each other slowly, hands roaming and chests flush together. Its slow and tender, just how Eddie always dreamed it might be. They get lost in the sensations, lost in the motions, lost in _each other._ Time doesn’t exist for them anymore. There’s no place they’d rather be than here, wrapped up in each other as if they’re getting to know one another all over again.

Richie slowly pushes down, beginning his own onslaught of kisses and bites to Eddie’s neck. He sucks a bruise into the skin beneath Eddie’s ear and Eddie moans. He pauses at his collar bone to bite it gently and his nipples to tease and suck. Eddie loves it. He relishes in the way Richie feels on top of him. When he gets down to the hem of Eddie’s jeans, he stops entirely.

“I want this if you do,” Richie says. His fingers dance on the button of Eddie’s jeans, playing with the denim there and gently grazing the skin of his lower abdomen.

“I want this. So bad,” Eddie replies and he can’t even feel ashamed of how desperate he might sound. How needy he feels. He’s desperate for Richie's touch, his closeness. It itches under his skin, in his veins.

With that, Richie pops the button of Eddie’s jeans open and slides them down. Eddie helps by kicking his ankles out of them. Richie is on him again in an instant, settling between Eddie’s legs and pressing kisses to his inner thighs. Eddie bites back the whine that threatens to break through and he watches Richie’s mop of curls continue to tease, continue to lick and nip and kiss Eddie.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” Eddie says, rambling into the space above him. “Teenagers probably.”

Richie doesn’t reply, his mouth occupied with Eddie’s skin. He hums, though. His fingers dig a little harder into Eddie’s hips and he puts a little more pressure to his kisses. He works his way down, then back up the expanse of Eddie’s thighs and finally, finally mouths Eddie through his boxers. The wet heat, even muffled by the fabric of his boxers, is enough to make Eddie gasp. His hips buck ever so gently and Richie hooks his fingers in the waistband of his boxers and drags them down, freeing Eddie. He isn’t fully hard but Richie doesn’t comment on it. He doesn’t make a joke the way he might have before. Instead, he presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s hip and then licks a slow stripe up the shaft before taking Eddie in his mouth.

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to be at full mast with Richie swirling his tongue around the head and tracing the vein on the underside. Eddie is a shaking, moaning mess in no time. In all the times Richie has done this it’s never felt this good. Richie has Eddie melting in the palms of his hands. Pleasure washes over Eddie with every bob, every swallow.

Richie pulls off him with a small pop and pulls open the top drawer of his nightstand. He pulls out his bottle of lube, half empty, and a condom wrapper. He quickly shucks off his own jeans and boxers before returning to his position.

“I’ve loved you, too, I think. This whole fucking time. I was just too fucking stupid to see it until you were gone,” Richie says as he pours lube into his hands and warms it between his fingers. He scoffs gently before adding, “So fucking cliché, huh?”

Eddie laughs gently, bending his knees for Richie to give him easier access. Richie practically bends him in half as he leans over Eddie to give him a quick kiss. Then he’s pressing a warm, slick finger against Eddie’s rim, gently circling and teasing the sensitive opening.

Richie’s eyes burn into his as his finger slides in to the first knuckle, pausing briefly and then pushing in all the way. He lets Eddie adjust, pumping in and out as he whispers encouragements. After a few moments he slips another finger in, adding to the wonderful stretch. Something starts to burn in the pit of Eddie’s stomach. It’s hot and twisting and bubbling up into his chest and seeping out his mouth in light, panting moans as Richie starts to scissor, cooking his fingers and hitting that _spot_ inside of Eddie.

He keeps it up. He’s getting the reaction he wants from Eddie. He’s got Eddie beneath him, twisting and moaning and gripping at Richie’s shoulders while Richie stares down at him, mouth slightly open and eyes watching Eddie intently, catching every possible detail.

Eddie throws his head back when Richie slips a third finger in. He almost expects Richie to jab his fingers in and out, to go hard like they’re so used to. He doesn’t. He doesn’t get him stretched and edged and begging before fucking him hard and rough and fast. He’s always prepped Eddie thoroughly but this is different. There’s something else lingering in the way Richie pushes into him. Something intimate. He doesn’t move slow, either. Instead it’s this persistent pace. Persistent yet passionate at the same time. Richie moves his hand in a fluid motion, teasing at Eddie’s rim once or twice but almost always hitting his prostate dead on. Its torture.

Eddie is hard and leaking on his stomach, untouched but getting closer and closer with every passing second. He won’t cum, though. He knows it and Richie must, too, because he doesn’t let up. He just keeps rocking his right hand and pressing his left to Eddie’s lower stomach, right above his dick. He gently cards his fingers through the tufts of hair there, kisses the skin he can reach on Eddie’s leg where it’s bent. He’s staring into Eddie’s core, right into the center of his being. Eddie might just burn up under that gaze. And what a way to go. A blazing fire, burning him up from the inside out until he’s nothing but ashes and dust and love.

Finally, when Eddie thinks he’s going to go mad from the stimulation, Richie slips his fingers out. He runs his clean hand down Eddie’s stomach, down his legs and back up again. Then he reaches for the foil packet and rips it open before slipping the condom out and rolling it over himself. He pours more lube into his hands and slicks himself up. He presses a couple more chaste kisses on Eddie’s skin, anywhere he can reach, before lining himself up.

“I know this is probably a stupid question, given our incriminating position, but are you sure about this? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I want this. But isn’t this what got us into this mess in the first place? I just don’t want to push it, or fuck up. And I –”

“Rich,” Eddie says, reaching up and brushing some curls back and behind Richie’s ear. There are a million things he wants to say. _It was always more than just sex_ or _I want you in every single way, including this_ or _baby, please_.

He doesn’t say anything. He just tugs gently on the back of Richie’s neck, bringing him in for a soft kiss. And Richie gets it. He tastes every word in Eddie’s mouth.

Slowly, Richie presses in. He slips past the tight ring of muscle and inches slowly, slowly into Eddie. Eddie breaks the kiss, head falling back on the bed as his mouth hangs open. He doesn’t think he could ever get used to the feeling of Richie inside him. The feeling of being stretched and full and so, so satisfied as Richie bottoms out and stills.

Richie’s mouth doesn’t stop his ministrations when Eddie breaks the kiss. He mouths down the side of Eddie’s neck, down to his collarbone. Pressing hot, open mouthed kisses as they both adjust to the feeling.

Eddie taps on Richie’s shoulder, a signal to move. Richie does. He pulls out and pushes back in, sending ripples through Eddie’s spine. Eddie runs his hands up Richie’s back and down his chest. He feels the warmth radiating from every inch of Richie. He feels the way it cracks him open as Richie cants his hips.

Tears spring into his eyes and Richie continues to move. His thrusts are gentle. Slow, but not too slow. The movement is perfect. It’s sublime. Every other time there was always a rush, who can get off first, who can get off harder. This time, there’s no finish line. With the way Richie is touching him, the way he’s making him feel, Eddie knows he could stay connected with Richie like this for the rest of the night. Hell, for the rest of his life.

“No one else was ever as good as you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I said your name more than once,” Richie babbles into the crook of Eddie’s neck. “I missed you so much.”

_Fuck._ Richie hits that spot inside Eddie and he sees stars. Richie is so deep, so close to Eddie. Eddie’s trembling. He can feel the way his stomach and thighs shake. He alternates between gripping Richie’s shoulders and the bedsheets. Moans he couldn’t keep in even if he wanted to fall from his lips. “I wish I told you sooner. I wish I told you when we first started. I was just so scared. I couldn’t lose you,” comes out broken and shaking and wet. Richie just shushes him, kisses away the tears.

He shifts his hips and picks up the pace and Eddie knows they’re both close, now. He can feel the heat pooling in his stomach, impossibly hot and threatening to spill over. Before, he might have taken himself in his hands and pumped himself to completion. Now, though, he doesn’t. This isn’t before. This is now and he doesn’t want to just get off. He doesn’t want to make this look like meaningless, quick sex. It’s not. It never was.

As if on cue, Richie takes hold of Eddie’s leaking cock and strokes it. It’s just right, just enough that soon Eddie is spilling over onto Richie’s hand and his own stomach. Its white hot, bleeding pleasure racking through Eddie’s body so hard he doesn’t come down until he hears Richie’s own wonton moans, hears him say Eddie’s name, feels him empty into the condom.

Richie collapses on Eddie’s chest and they stay like that long enough that Richie goes soft and Eddie’s cum dries. Neither of them move, though. It’s too comfortable. It’s almost surreal, the way they breathe together. Just the two of them, in sync in the same ways they’ve been since they were younger. They couldn’t break this if they tried. This kind of connection doesn’t crumble with one or two or three mistakes. They’ll live, they’ll learn, and they’ll love. They’ll grow through the dirt and come back stronger, better, surer than they’ve maybe ever been before.

Eddie almost falls asleep like that. He’s drifting somewhere far above himself when he starts to feel Richie shift on top of him. He feels Richie tense and curl slightly. Eddie doesn’t entirely come to, though, until he feels Richie’s shoulders shake.

“Baby, no,” he coos into thick curls, kissing them insistently, “please don’t cry. What is it?”

Richie doesn’t answer. He just wraps his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders, buries his face further into Eddie’s chest. Eddie can feel the wet, warm tears start to drip onto his chest. He can feel the way Richie’s body shakes to make up for the way he’s trying to hold it all in. He chokes out one sob, coughs twice, and then stills in Eddie’s arms.

“I’m sorry, you know,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“You know. Everything.”

Richie pushes himself up and finally pulls out. He drags his hand under both of his eyes and presses several kisses to Eddie’s chest, neck, and face before he stands up and grabs his boxers. He grabs a wet wipe from his nightstand cleans them both off before grabbing Eddie’s boxers and helping him into them.

“I’m not mad,” Eddie says back. When Richie sits next to him Eddie runs his hands over Richie’s back from where he’s still lying on the bed. “I’m sorry, too.”

Richie chuckles and leans into Eddie’s touch. “I don’t know if this is moving too fast for you, but I’d like to make this all, you know, proper.”

Eddie smiles. He lets it overtake his entire face and every inch of his features as he hums questioningly at Richie. He wants to hear him say it.

“You know. Like, take you out instead of just fucking you. Candles and steak, the whole nine yards. Gotta pull out all the stops for my boyfriend.” It comes out with that all that easy confidence Eddie knows is half fake. He’s got a lazy grin on his face as he leans over Eddie and gently waggles his eyebrows. He’s still got glossy eyes and red rims but Eddie doesn’t mention it. Even with his hair all messed up and his face all puffy, Eddie can’t help but melt into the mattress at the sight.

“Boyfriend?” Eddie echoes, voice somewhere between shock and elation.

“Yeah, boyfriend. If that’s okay with you?”

Eddie sighs at the term, at the whole idea. Boyfriends. Fuck, that’s not something he expected from this. He didn’t even expect to end up in bed with Richie but here they are, running gentle hands over each other and smiling softly in the lamp light. He pictures it for a moment, tries to really see it. He tries to see himself on dates with Richie, going out to the movies. Doing all the cliché things he knows about relationships like holding books, walking to class, cuddling up during movies. He tries to see himself running his hands through Richie’s hair or Richie press soft kisses to Eddie’s forehead.

He can’t, though.

He can’t see anything differently from how it’s always been with Richie. The only new thing he sees is kissing him. And maybe that’s because they’ve always been on the precipice of something they couldn’t even see. Even before this whole thing happened, they’ve always been right there on the edge, tipping closer and closer into _something_. All the touching, all the casual intimacy. He doesn’t have that with the others. There are no lingering touches with Ben or fiery glances with Bev. He doesn’t fall into Bill’s arms during movie nights. There’s nothing quite like the way Eddie and Richie fall together.

_Things don’t need to change_ , Eddie thinks. _Love doesn’t need to be this huge, altering movement. Maybe two people in love can just be._

Casually, Eddie reaches his hand up to cup the side of Richie’s face and whispers, “Yeah. It is.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, folks. Thats's all she wrote. 
> 
> Seriously though, thank you so much for all the unending support and kind words and I worked on this story and even after I took such a monster hiatus. I really hope people still care about this story, I know I do. Writing it has been so fun and I think I've grown a little bit as a writer while creating it. Its been so much fun and I'm so happy to have finished, even though I'm sad to see it go. But hey, no promises or anything but maybe one day I'll write an epilogue. I love this universe a whole lot. 
> 
> As always, huge thanks to Leighwrites for betaing this beauty. She hyped me up and down and her support is irreplaceable. She's always pumping out new content so don't forget to go give her a look-see. She recently wrote this Bichie prompt that is to DIE for. Also huge thanks to oldguybones for being an amazing hype woman and helping me in when I got stuck, as well as giving this a look-see also. She's recently put out an OT7 fic that is so delicious and so, so, so wonderful. Without these two this story would not be complete and even if it was, it wouldn't be half as good. They deserve kudos, comments, and love for not only writing amazing stories themselves but helping others write, too. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience, your support, your comments, your kudos, and your love. Come talk to me @ reddie-for-anything.tumblr.com. I love talking to people. Seriously. 
> 
> Until next time, lovs.

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! Another multi-chapter project! I'm very excited for it. I'm hoping for semi-regular updates on this, I have most of it written out. This chapter is pretty short but the ones in the future are going to be longer - this one is a little something to set the scene!
> 
> Huge thank you to Leighwrites for beta reading this chapter for me!
> 
> Please drop a comment and let me know what you think. Come talk to me @ reddie-for-anything.tumblr.com!


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